Mac, clever genius that she was, stuck close to Beatrix, pointing out the different sights around town. I remembered my first days there. My old friend would be having a hard time falling asleep tonight. Mac’s actions gave Grey and me a bit of privacy, and he joined me, walking close by my side.

“Thank you for the coffee,” I said.

“My pleasure.” He looked down at the book. “You truly think you have the ability to break the curse?”

“Yes.” I could feel it. “Or at least, I have the ability to fix our situation. I don’t know how, but my magic is screaming it. If only Seraphia can help decipher the book.”

We reached the library a few moments later.

Unlike the last times we’d visited, Seraphia was loitering outside the front door. She looked like she’d recently showered and put on fresh clothes, and her eyes looked well rested. She clutched a mug of tea and stared up at the clouds.

“She seems a bit more herself,” I said.

Grey nodded.

Seraphia caught sight of us and smiled. “How was the book?”

“Unexpected.” I stopped in front of her and removed it from my pocket. “It’s written in a language I don’t recognize.”

“Really?” She frowned. “I’d have assumed it would be English, given where you found it.”

“Me, too. But it’s not.” I opened it and showed her the strange scribblings. “Check it out. The writing is insane.”

She squinted at it, then gasped, her grip loosening on her mug. The ceramic cup slipped from her fingers, and Grey reached down, snagging it before it hit the ground.

“No way,” she breathed, reaching for the book with a trembling hand. I let her have it, and she raised it to her face. Quickly, carefully, she flipped through the pages, her jaw slackening. “I’ve never seen one of these before.”

“What is it?” I could feel Mac and Beatrix crowding close.

“Just a moment, and I’ll confirm my suspicions.” She turned and hurried into the library.

We followed, Beatrix gasping upon entrance. Seraphia raced to her worktable, winding her way through the shelves, and we hurried after her. She bent over the table, laying the book out flat and opening it to a random page. Quickly, she ducked under the table and disappeared.

I bent down to peer underneath, then spotted her opening a secret compartment set into the floor.

“I trust you,” she said. “Or you’d never see this.”

With a few deft maneuvers, she lifted up one of the wooden floorboards, and her hand trembled as she withdrew a box. The ornately carved wood gleamed with the patina of careful care. Quickly, she climbed out from under the table and set the box on the surface.

“Keep an eye on that,” she said, then disappeared between some shelves. Her voice drifted back. “I’ll only be a moment.”

I shared a look with the others, but before we could speak, she’d already returned, a key clutched in her hand. She slipped the key into the box, twisting it carefully. The lid popped open.

Carefully, she removed a stone from the box. It looked average enough, and I frowned. “What’s that?”

“Shh.” She hovered the stone right over the pages, standing so perfectly still that she was obviously holding her breath. The stone glowed gold, and she heaved a sigh. “Amazing.”

“What is it?” I leaned closer, trying to see whatever it was that she could see.

But nothing had changed about the book. It was still indecipherable.

“This isn’t quite a book. Not in the way you are used to.” She pointed to the words. “And this isn’t another language. It was written in English.”

“So it’s code?”

“Not exactly. It’s a spell. The book was written in English, and then enchanted so that the reader could go back in time to visit the events that were written about.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.” She looked up, her face bright with excitement. “These books are incredibly rare. We had several in our collection, but they were stolen ages ago. This is the first I’ve ever seen with my own eyes.”

“How do we use it, then?” I asked.

“Come, I’ll show you.” She turned, leading us deeper into the library. We wound our way between shelves, getting lost in the recesses of the cavernous building. It grew darker and gloomier, the air chilling.

Finally, we reached a section of bookshelves that appeared empty. The wooden shelves formed a narrow aisle that led into the darkness. A faint glitter filled the air between the shelves, and I stepped toward it.

Seraphia reached out and gripped my arm. “Stop.”

I halted immediately, staring at the space with rapt attention.

“The library no longer has any of those books,” she said. “But we still have our portal. If you carry the book between those shelves, you’ll be taken back in time to whenever the book was written.”

“For real, back in time?” Beatrix asked, skepticism in her voice.

I couldn’t help but feel the same. I’d seen amazing things in the magical world, but time travel?

“Yes.” Seraphia nodded. “You’ll arrive in this very library, but in the past.”

“Likely in the time of Rasla,” I said, suddenly feeling Beatrix’s confusion. I turned to her. “Around 1642. He was a bastard, but it’s a very long story.”

“I can tell you over breakfast,” Mac said.

I looked at Seraphia. “So I can take this book and go back to get my answers?”

She nodded. “Yes. But I don’t know what you’ll find. And it will be dangerous.”

I’d seen enough movies to know that. Time travel was no joke. “Once I’m there, how do I know what I’m looking for?”

Seraphia frowned slightly. “From what I understand, certain scenes or people might glow with magic. A golden sparkle or faint aura. Those are the things that are written about in the book. Theoretically, at least. You’re going to have to wing it, for the most part. Your magic should help, though.”

I thought of the dress the book had been wrapped in and the image of the woman I’d seen when I’d touched it. We needed to find her. “When it’s all done, how do I come home?”

“Return to the portal. It will remember you and send you here.”

“What if the library is destroyed?” I asked, mind racing.

She grimaced. “You may be stuck. I’m not sure.”

I looked at Grey. “Worth the risk, don’t you think?”

“Of course. I will accompany you.”

“More people might be more dangerous,” Seraphia said.

“I lived in Guild City in the mid-seventeenth century,” he said. “She’ll need my help.”

“That’s true,” I said. “I have no idea how to get along back then. And who knows what we’ll find? We’re doing this to fix our situation, so it’s better if we stay together.”

“Fair enough,” Seraphia said. “And it’s not my place to tell you what to do. But it is my place to warn you. Do not change anything. Just observe. Blend in. People will be able to see you.”

I nodded. “I know the drill. I mean, I learned it from TV and movies, but I assume all the same rules apply?”

Seraphia nodded. “From what I know, yes.”

“We’ll need a good plan,” Grey said. “I shouldn’t see my former self. But it would be good to make use of my resources in the past.”

I nodded, liking the idea of having a place to stay.

“Don’t forget about clothes,” Beatrix said. “You’d stick out like a sore thumb in those.”

We’d need potions too, certainly. Things to help us along when things got sticky. I looked at my friends. “All right. Let’s get moving.”

Hours later, we were ready. Grey and I had come up with a plan with the help of the others, and then Beatrix and Mac had gone to Eve to get the potions we would need. Grey and I had headed over to the Fae dress shop. The proprietor had connections with the antique costuming community, and we’d found proper attire for the seventeenth century.

I pulled at the bodice of my heavy black dress. We’d gone as simple as possible, as far as fashion was concerned, but the skirt was still wide and the three-quarter-length sleeves full. The dress exposed much of my shoulders, though we’d topped it with a cape. It was enchanted like my other dresses had been, giving me a bit of extra strength and protection.

The plan was for me to blend in as a possible acquaintance of Grey’s. He was meant to be himself, though we’d have to deal with the past version of him, which would take some doing.

We stood in the library, just the two of us in the small waiting room at the side. Seraphia was off doing something else, and Mac and Beatrix hadn’t arrived yet. I looked over at him, attired in all black—breeches, tall boots, and a doublet that looked a bit like a stiff, formal jacket. He held a wide-brimmed hat that he would put on when we arrived. It wasn’t his usual look, but it wasn’t bad, either. “I can’t believe you ever got rid of your old clothes.”

He gave me a perplexed look. “I’m hardly the sentimental type. And we’re lucky that ruffs had gone out of fashion by the time that book was written.”

I laughed at the idea of him in a tall, fancy collar. He didn’t wear a wig, though they had been popular then. He never had, apparently.

The door to the library creaked open, and I looked out, spotting Max and Beatrix. Max held up a leather bag. “Got your potions.”

“Thank you.” I stepped out of the small waiting room and saw Beatrix more fully.

Her eyes were wide and sparkling as they met mine. “This place is phenomenal.”

“Glad you like it, because you need to live here now that all of London thinks you’re dead. I have no idea how you’d get along back there.”